


Wicked As They Come

by Cozy_coffee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Barebacking, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Community: spnkink_meme, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom Sam, Dom/sub, Endearments, Feeding Kink, First Dates, Hand Jobs, M/M, Painplay, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Dean, Top Sam, True Love, Trust Kink, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5162369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/pseuds/Cozy_coffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for the spnkink_meme prompt; Sam/Anyone Top!Sam</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wicked As They Come

The meal is exquisite and the white wine is crisp. Harmonizing music plays in the shadows of the bunker, surrounding the soul mates with a melody of pure love. Sam’s hand tenderly brushes up and down his subs back as he presses the fork to Dean’s mouth. 

Dean parts his soft lips and accepts the delicious food—a cut of thick, juicy steak smothered in tangy barbecue sauce. A euphoria of the rich flavors dance on his taste buds, and he groans quietly, blissful content, his bright green eyes closing as he savors the delicious meal his Master prepared. 

“Good?” Sam smirks fondly as he soothingly rubs Dean’s back. His sub bows his head, respectfully thanking him, and Sam leans forward to kiss Dean’s forehead. His long fingers rake down the length of Dean’s spine as his lips press against freckled skin and he can practically hear his lover purr with joy. 

When Sam offers Dean another bite of steak, he kindly declines with a shake of his head and asks, “May I have a sip of wine, Sir.” 

Sam smiles and gives Dean butterfly kisses; his eyelashes flutter rapidly over his lover’s cheek. His sub giggles joyfully, leaning into his touch as the laugh lines of his eyes wrinkle adorably cute. “You may have anything you desire, my beautiful boy,” Sam whispers lovingly, setting the fork down and picking up the glass and pressing the rim to Dean’s lips. 

Dean blushes rosy pink at the tender words his Dom coos at him while he takes a drink. He sips slowly to savors the wine as his mind is on more arousing things then the drink trickling down his throat. He knows the dungeon is ready and waiting for him, filled with chains and whips, and the assortment of bondage equipment and sex toys and paddles that Sam has been very gracious to purchase for him. 

Dean craves a whipping, his skin is already tingling and he has been wishing for the pleasure pain all night. He loves the way the pain burns through him when the tails of the whip slice into him; a rush of erotic bliss captivates his soul as he surrenders to his Master, taking all that Sam will be willing to give…and Sam is extremely gracious in giving him pleasure and pain. Dean finds it ordinary, boring even, lacking in both excitement and passion. 

He wants more, something other than kneeling on the bed, ass in the air as his brother fucks him from behind. He wants the excitement, the passionate thrill, and even the pain. He wants Sam’s hands to be doing more than holding him still while he thrusts in and out, over and over, fingers gripping tight to Dean’s hips instead of twisting his nipples, nails biting against his skin until the pain becomes pleasure. 

Sam knows what Dean wishes; he can see desire and need, and the anticipation twinkling in his subs eyes. He is anxious to play as well, has been since they sat down for this romantic meal. Sam sets the glass down and palms Dean’s cheek with one hand, making his sub look at him, and he takes Dean’s hand with the other hand and gives it an affectionate squeeze. The touch is a question-are you ready to go play? 

Dean’s emerald eyes light up and dazzle, and Sam is sure if his lover were standing he would be bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. Sam gives Dean a kiss, slow and soft, dearly tender, lightly caressing his subs lips. He pours all his love and affection into that kiss, and Dean responds heatedly-biting lightly at his lip and whimpering, so eager to go play. Pulling back so he can gaze into Dean’s eyes, Sam smiles brightly, whispering, “Come, my boy. Let’s go play.” 

Standing, Sam leads the way to the dungeon with Dean crawling after him. 

In the dungeon, standing face to face, Sam strips Dean slowly as he caught a whiff of leather. He peels each layer off and worships every patch of freckled skin with loving kisses and touches, smiling as he leans in to kiss Dean, pecking soft kisses to his pink lips. Every single kiss earns him a needy whimper and a pleasurable moan, sweet sounds that if Sam were a musician he could write a love song. Sam's mouth tastes delicious and his tongue excites Dean...His lips press soft and sweet as they kiss, driving Dean wild, his big warm hands caressing his body and making Dean gasp a shuttering breath. 

When he lays Dean down on the padded floor and spreads his legs, intending to enjoy some dessert after the meal, Dean bites his lip, the swollen flesh caught between white teeth as he tries to be calm. Tries and fails. It is a struggle not to give into the pleasure as Sam's tongue slowly laps at his dusty pink hole; it feels so nice, wet and warm. Sam eats him out slowly, teasing, controlling how much pleasure he gets. The sensation buzzes pleasure through his body with every lick. 

He bites his lip harder as a whimper, and then a moan escapes his lips while the pleasure begins to build. It starts out low in his belly, a slow burn that spreads to his groin, tingles in his balls, and it’s all he can do to prevent himself from begging. He does not touch his throbbing cock; he gives Sam control over his body as his Master rims him ruthlessly. 

“That’s my good boy,” Sam purrs in-between little wet flicks of his tongue that makes Dean writhe on the mat. Dean licks his lips, fidgeting restlessly. “Stay quiet while I lick this pretty, pink hole of yours.” He kisses the twitching pucker, once, just barely, pushes in and out with his tongue before sealing his lips around Dean’s twitching pucker and suckles, fucking suckles like a newborn. 

Dean’s hot and hard, and his balls are throbbing but he remains silent—he is a very good boy. Sam buries his face in the mounds of Dean's perky booty, kissing and licking the little tight hole. He glides his tongue along the slick crack, moistening the baby soft skin and each kitten lick makes Dean's cock jump and harden and ooze pre-cum, all at the same time. As much as Dean is grateful for the pleasure, he wants the pain. His Master, so in tune with his desires, presses one last kiss to the little hole before picking Dean up and taking him over to the St. Andrews cross. 

As the straps bind Dean's wrists and ankles, a sensation of freedom and peace washes over him—this room is safe. It’s warm and soothing. It’s a place where Dean feels no shame or weakness for submitting, only pure freedom. With his Master, Sam does not force him to do anything; he gives the option and takes whatever Dean is willing to give, grateful and honored by the trust his sub bestows on him. 

Dean is willing…so wanting. One strike of the whip slashes his back and the tingle of pleasure pain begins to warm him. This room is a heaven for him. The pleasure is a reward, and the pain is pleasure. The tails of the whip slice into his back, sharper, stinging. They flow over his skin, hurting him, pleasuring him, leaving red lines on his spine, and Dean’s eyes tightly closed with a breathy moan. 

The strikes rain down faster, more brutal and vicious as Sam commands the whip. The tails strike Dean’s skin, ripping his smooth golden tan flesh open. Dean screams, muscles coiling and straining as he trembles in the bonds holding him in place up against the St. Andrews cross. Another searing strike cuts up his spine and shreds his skin. Blood, ruby red. The pain burns hot down each quivering vertebrae of Dean’s back. He is sweating and shaking, whining with pain and trembling with arousal. 

His cock is throbbing and swollen, bobbing hot and hard between his thighs. The shaft flushed red and the cockhead a deep purple. He's leaking and sticky wet, trickles of pre-cum trailing down his thickness and speckling onto the ground. He’s crying and whimpering, aching back into each vicious lash of the whip. The brutal strikes rain down on him hastily, breaking him down and ripping him open. Blood spills down his spine as he begins to cry. He whines and moans and sobs, “Thank you, Sammy. Thank you, Master. So good to me; treat me so perfect. Thank you, thank you, Sir.” 

Grateful. Blessed. Honored. Dean feels every wonderful emotion rise within his heart as Sam whips him bloody and raw. His Master is skilled in each lash of the whip so that it gives him the perfect amount of pain with the exact thrilling euphoria of pleasure. One brutal lash cuts open the flesh of his shoulder and another to the dip of his waist, and his blood flows in trickles as his body burns with hot pain. Sensation zips through his body, his skin buzzing like thousands of honeybees while his nerve endings flare on fire.

The last stroke falls on his battered flesh then Sam sets the whip down. Dean screams with a wailing cry, sobbing and shaking, completely unwoven. He wants to reach out for Sam and hold him and worship him with kisses. He is so eternally grateful for being able to submit and surrender the power and control, thankful for the love and pleasure his Master gives him. 

Sam comes to him and stands close, one palm cradling the back of his head and the other slipping low to grasp Dean's blood-swollen cock. Dean cries and buries his face in his Master's shoulder, body held in place by the binding but he press his face to Sam's neck, hips grinding forward as his Master touches him. 

“You are beautiful, Dean. So perfect, my beautiful boy.” Sam praised him lovingly, cradles his head, standing close to let Dean feel his warmth and affection. He kisses his temple tenderly as he quickly strokes his submissive, grip warm, snug, and perfect. 

Dean feels safe and free, and he gives in to the feeling, letting go completely. He shakes and shivers in the bonds, his dick throbbing in his Master's grip. As the pleasure burns through him he focuses not on his own release but on Sam's; his Master is hard and his dick is straining in his jeans, and Dean wants Sam to use his body for pleasure, to give back of that which he received. 

He asks to be taken, begging to be used; he loves to make his Master come, hearing Sam's breathing hitched harshly as his strong muscles coil and his eyes sparkle brighter as arousal overtakes him is the greatest sight, and sensation, to Dean. Sam makes sure he is prepped before he takes Dean; his subs hole is slick and warm and he eases out slowly then and thrusts back in as he feels sensual and hot from head to toe. 

He nips and kisses Dean's neck as he gets lost in the pleasure of the drag and thrust of his thickness sliding in and out of his brother’s silky tight hole, and every time he hits that sweet spot inside Dean it drags a moan from his brother underneath him. 

Sam holds Dean by the hips as he ruts, and his breath hitches and his body shakes every time a rush of pleasure coils tight in his belly. Dean is nearly breathless as Sam jacks his cock in time with his hips, and thrusts his whole eight-incher in to the hilt. 

The cockhead grinds on his prostate, and press too hard; Dean screams in pleasure and pain as white heat rushes through his body and he was certain that if he pressed a hand to his belly, the skin would be taunt and he could feel his Master from the outside as his tummy bulged. The skin of his back is burning from the whipping and with Sam pressing close to him and rubbing his chest against the raw skin every nerve in Dean's body is alight with pleasure pain. 

Another thrust and another, Sam's hips pick up the pace as he and his sub get closer to their release, and all the tiny mewls and whimpers and breathy moans Dean is making are driving Sam crazy, shooting straight to his cock and making it throb. He sucks a love bite into the skin as he fucks faster; he rams his hips sharply, plowing ass with an angry fuck. 

Dean is trying not to come, he wants to ask permission first, but the pleasure is so strong and Sam feels so good deep inside him it is a struggle not to give in to the rush. His orgasm is rising up faster than he can stop it, and Sam--bless him, is so kind and giving; His Master strokes to the rhythm of thrusts, deeper, longer, harder. 

Dean begins to make little desperate mewling sounds that go straight to Sam’s cock. He tugs faster on Dean’s thickness, eager to feel him come, to hear his sibling cry out his name in passion. 

He gives his Master the control and lets Sam bring him off with a shiver and moan. His orgasm slams into him, steals his breath away, and he's coming into Sam's hand with a cry of his Master's name as his Master comes inside him. Dean shakes, gasping as his hole still clenches around Sam, clinging to the silky hard flesh. 

His orgasm is long lasting, feeling like an eternity of pleasure as he soaks Sam's hand with sticky, wet cum. His mind is lost to the warmth and glow and he floats in subspace, eyes fluttering as his body and mind splice apart. 

He's not sure of the things around him; he being moved, taken out of the playroom and somewhere else. He does not fear; only trusts in his Master. Into a new room he is taken, into the shower. Dean feels warm water cascade down his bloody back, gently and soothingly, feeling Sam's lips on his forehead, kissing him tenderly. 

“You are perfect, Dean. I'm proud of you, baby. So good, my beautiful boy. I love you, Dean. I love you so much.” Dean's eyes are clouded over with lust as Sam's kind praises rain down upon him, sweet and tenderly affectionate and loving. He grins bashfully, happy and lost in a joy of bliss. His body is sore, he hurts, but he feels good, warm and content. 

When he comes around a little bit later, more alert, he’s lying on the bed, snuggled in a cocoon of warm soft blankets. He’s been cleaned and wiped down, and his back is soothed with an ointment and bandages. Sam is with him, softly stroking his thigh in soothing circles. Dean relies he’s wearing Sam's black hoodie, and its big and snuggly warm, soft and smells like Sam. Dean cuddles into the fluffy fabric, sighing as his sore body melts into the cozy bed. Arms weave around him and gently pull him flush against a strong body, and he cuddles into his Master’s embrace. 

Soft lips brush his, kissing him kindly. “I love you, Dean.” Sweet. Tender. Devoting. Affectionately lovingly. Dean feels himself blushing, his heart skipping beats as warmth glows within his soul. Sam smiles at him, dimples sparkling on his cheeks. 

“I love you, Sam.” Dean kisses him sweetly, and as Sam cradles him lovingly, Dean holds Sam close, embracing his brother, his dominate; his obsession, his fetish, his religion. 

His Sammy, the love of his life. 

♥ END ♥

**Author's Note:**

> [Written for this prompt!](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/87399.html?thread=34117735#t34117735)


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